


Making It Festive

by OhNoMyBreadsticks



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alive Cole Anderson, Androids Have Genitalia (Detroit: Become Human), Barebacking, Begging, Bottom Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Coming Untouched, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced polycho (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Parenthood, Safewords, Self-Lubrication, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Roleplay, Teasing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 05:56:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21239273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhNoMyBreadsticks/pseuds/OhNoMyBreadsticks
Summary: Connor Anderson is taking his son out trick-or-treating for the first time, and he's not exactly pleased with the costume Cole has picked out for him.But who knows what creatures may lurk in the dark, just waiting for the chance to pounce on an unsuspecting prince...





	Making It Festive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BIGHANK (piano_fire)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piano_fire/gifts).

> This is my gift for the Hankcon and Other Ships Halloween Exchange! This is my second time writing for BIGHANK and boy do you have good prompts every time!! I had a great time writing this! C:
> 
> I couldn't resist a good 'Cole lives' scenario, so the first half is all fluffy father-son bonding, and the second half is the shameless smut. Hopefully I stuck the landing on both XD
> 
> My dearest [thislittlekumquat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thislittlekumquat/pseuds/thislittlekumquat) was, as always, my support and beta <3

“Come  _ on  _ Dad, I’m gonna be late!” 

Cole’s voice cut through Connor’s processors, jolting him back to his senses. He was standing in front of the bedroom mirror - a piece he had finally convinced Hank to let him buy despite how much teasing over his vanity it had cost him - hands idly fussing at the bottom of his tunic. 

Yes, tunic. The prince costume Cole had convinced him to wear was a tacky sort of ordeal consisting of a dark blue tunic and a maroon cape, complete with silver trim and a silly little crown held on with hair clips. The things he did for his son, Connor thought with a small sigh. Looking in the mirror one last time to really take in how terrible he looked, he considered his chances that perhaps no one in the neighborhood would recognize him. Definitely no one would recognize Connor RK800, that one android from the news, or even Connor Anderson, devoted PTA attendant, right? 

Yeah, fat chance. Julia from down the block was going to make snide remarks about this getup for the next month.

But as Connor opened the door and was greeted with an enthusiastic whoop and an even more enthusiastic hug from Cole, he realized that the embarrassment was worth it. Their son made everything worth it, with his big blue eyes and his toothy grin stretched across his face. Hank would have said he was getting soft in his deviancy, and maybe, just maybe, he was right. 

“You look so cool! A perfect prince!” Cole insisted, looking Connor up and down and giving him his seal of approval. 

“And you make a very ferocious dragon,” Connor said in return, straightening the head of the costume where it sat on top of Cole’s head of dusky blond hair. His most recent obsession had been with the idea that maybe instead of killing dragons, perhaps princes rode out to befriend them. And so he had begged and pleaded for one of his dads to be the prince friend for his dragon.

Hank normally would have been the dad for the job, but he had work tonight, and thus was unavailable for prince duties. Leaving Connor all alone in his tunic and boots to navigate the hectic pace of trick or treat night. It fell exactly on Halloween this year, and the air was just warm enough that the children didn’t all have to put on coats over their costumes. Connor was glad for that; he wasn’t sure he could have convinced Cole that dragons needed coats as well as friends. Shoes were definitely a must for dragons that they both agreed on, so he stood by as Cole dutifully tied his own and then inspected Connor’s to make sure they were done ‘correctly’. Only then could the plastic pumpkin bucket be collected and taken out to fill with candy.

Once they stepped outside, Connor was very glad he was a state of the art detective android, and could thus keep track of Cole easily even in the dark. The neighborhood was  _ swarming _ with children, all happily dashing from house to house with their buckets full of tasty treats. With Hank gone for most of the evening on duty and Connor gone taking care of Cole, their own house was simply equipped with a bowl that said ‘please take only 2 pieces of candy’ which Connor was sure every child in the neighborhood was going to disregard. But other houses were brightly lit, and their doors were being opened by friendly neighbors waiting for the telltale chant of ‘trick or treat!’ before they poured candy into open hands.

Cole tugged on Connor’s hand and began pulling him along, excitedly babbling about all the cool costumes and decorations he could see. Connor simply smiled and let himself be led through the crowd, answering Cole’s questions as best he could. He had done quite a bit of Halloween-themed research to prepare for today, but most of the things Cole had questions about were the usual things he had questions about. Like, “Why does that skeleton not have shoes?” to which the best answer Connor could come up with was, “Bones are like shoes I suppose.” That was a lie, but he did not want to contradict Hank’s earlier lie of ‘If you go outside and it’s not the beach you have to wear shoes, it’s the law’. Parenting involved quite a bit more lying than Connor’s straightforward processors were good at, but he did his best.

Despite the rush of noise and the swirl of confusing new questions, Connor found that he was smiling by the time he and Cole made it to the end of the block. There was something deeply satisfying about the squeeze of his little hand every time he rushed back from a new house and tugged at Connor to show off the candy he had gotten. It was almost a shame that trick or treating was coming to an end - or at least his part in it. Cole had been invited to a Halloween party hosted by Markus and his partners, and he had begged all week to be allowed to go. It sounded like a fun, safe time, and Cole had several friends who would also be there. Hank had been hesitant at first, but with Connor only a ping away via wireless messaging and Simon promising to keep an eye on Cole, he had relented. 

Cole was ecstatic, and hadn’t stopped talking about it all week. His enthusiasm had somewhat helped calm Hank’s nerves, and when he had left for work that night he had even sent along his greetings to the Jericho crew. Connor hummed happily to himself at the thought - it was good to see his husband branching out and embracing a large social circle. At the end of the block they met up with North and Simon as promised, who were both wearing costumes and looking various degrees of pleased. Connor felt much less embarrassed of his own costume as he held back the frantic giggles at North’s mouse ears and painted nose. He knew it would endanger his life to comment on it, so he simply saved a few pictures for blackmail material later.

It turned out one of the children had picked out North’s costume and face paint, which explained a lot and also made the whole thing that much sweeter. Simon took Cole’s hand and reassured him that, “No, you don’t have to worry, we have enough snacks even for a dragon,” and Connor felt even better about the party. He waved as the trio walked off, and his LED winked a placid blue as Cole turned around and did his best to wave even with the plastic pumpkin held in his hand. He only dropped a few pieces of candy. Connor was sure he would get plenty of treats to replace them at Jericho. 

With Cole safely handed over, Connor turned back to head home. He had the rest of the evening to himself, he supposed, since Hank was going to pick Cole up on his way back from his shift. Then they’d put their son to bed and have just enough energy left for a little making out and a good bit of snuggling. Connor sighed. Snuggling was all well and good, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed that on their one night alone, Hank wasn’t even going to be home for a little steamy action. Not that he felt particularly sexy in this getup, he thought miserably, plucking at the fake velvet trim around the tunic’s edge. The first order of business when he got home would be to get this ridiculous costume off and change into his pajamas. 

As he approached the house, Connor did his usual preliminary scan of the area. An old habit, from a time when security had been more important. Not that it wasn’t still important, but he and Hank were working together to make sure that Cole grew up with parents who weren’t constantly on a paranoid edge. The porch light was still on, and the bowl of candy was empty as expected. Connor supposed if he was a better homeowner he would have an extra bag of candy in the house ready to hand out now that he was back home. He did have an extra bag of candy, sure, but he didn’t particularly feel in the mood to hand it out to other people’s children. Man, he really was grumpy when he was having a pity party, maybe Hank was right about that one.

Before Connor could sink too deep into some probably very helpful introspection, something caught his attention. Just a hint of movement, a rustle he couldn’t attribute to the wind or the shuffle of foot traffic on the street behind him. LED flickering yellow for the briefest of moments, Connor straightened up and clicked the porch light off remotely - one of the many benefits of installing an electronic component to the lighting throughout the house that had only taken him half a year to convince Hank of. The house was surrounded by a small pool of shadow now, an effect which would work to Connor’s advantage if it turned out there was actually an intruder he needed to fend off. Optical units easily adjusting to the lack of light, Connor silently paced around the side of the house, cautious and on guard. Every system was on high alert, his body tense and ready to spring into any necessary action.

The moment his booted foot stepped into the back yard, Connor felt hands grabbing onto his shoulders. Whoever it was was strong, the initial tug enough to slam him up against the siding on the back of the house before he could really react. Admittedly, he had deactivated most of his combat protocols, or the attacker would have been dead by now. At least, that’s what Connor tried to reassure himself as the shame of being ambushed burned through his processors. He whirled around, arms reaching up and pushing hard against the body looming above him. The attacker stumbled back a few paces, and the soft ‘oof’ that escaped hit Connor harder than any blow could have.

“Hank?!” Connor gasped out, as he got his first good look at the man in front of him. It was his Hank, yes, but also not. His blue eyes, gleaming in the few rays of stray moonlight, were buried in a bushy layer of fur that seemed to sprout all across his face. There were even two fluffy ears in a matching color that were peeking out from Hank’s wild mess of gray hair, and as Connor’s eyes trailed down he spotted a furry patch escaping out of the unbuttoned top of his button-down shirt. Distressing? Maybe, given that he had no rational explanation for what was happening. Weirdly arousing? Oh definitely, especially as Hank crowded close again and those big warm hands cupped Connor’s face. He could feel his cheeks heating up, a blue flush working its way up to the surface of his synthetic skin.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out on a night like this?” Hank purred, eyes roaming across Connor’s form in a way that was predatory -  _ hungry  _ even. “Don’t you know there’s monsters around every corner?” He was so close that his breath was rushing across Connor’s skin, and he felt oh so small suddenly. Back against the wall, feeling the rumble of Hank’s deep baritone down to the foundations of his chassis, face gripped tightly between large hands. Hank’s thumb rubbed across Connor’s cheekbone as he stared with wide eyes, then tapped out a short one-two pattern. 

Ah.

Realization rushed through Connor’s processors, and he slumped further back against the wall in relief. When they did things in the bedroom where one of them was going to be without the ability to speak, that little tapping rhythm was a quick and easy way to check in for a possible safeword. So this was something Hank had planned for them, not some strange supernatural occurrence. Not that Connor believed in the supernatural, but, still. This had been frightening, in a way. Now that he knew this was a game, he could play along and enjoy himself. Leaning his head into Hank’s grip, Connor reached out to press a palm against his chest and tap out the answering pattern.

“I didn’t know there were any  _ dangerous _ monsters in these parts,” Connor replied, fluttering his eyelashes up at Hank and letting his lips form a delicate pout. “A big strong man like you, you’d keep me safe, right?” 

A rough chuckle rumbled up out of Hank’s chest, and Connor could feel it in his chassis. “You should be more careful who you trust, sweetheart. A big bad wolf like myself… Well, there’s no telling what I’ll do,” Hank replied, and before Connor could get any words out of his mouth to retort that he knew exactly who was trusting, his lips were occupied by an aggressive, needy kiss. 

Hank was controlling the tilt of his jaw, and Connor put up no resistance to the tongue working its way into his mouth, a soft litany of pleased noises mingling with the slick sound of their mouths working together. His hand fisted at the material of Hank’s shirt, tugging him closer as warmth started to tingle pleasantly through his systems. The kiss ended only when Hank absolutely had to pull back for breath, but he wasted very little time before that clever mouth was back at work - this time nipping at Connor’s lips and down his neck, leaving a trail of exposed white chassis in its wake. His head tipped back against the house with a whine as the feeling of scraping teeth on plastic flashed all the best kind of error messages across his vision. 

Hank didn’t stop there, hands trailing down Connor’s chest, his sides, his hips - it felt like there were hands all over his body. They groped at him, feeling at the body hiding underneath the cheap costume. Hank wasted very little time in shoving the tunic up to get his hands on Connor’s skin, nails scraping a gentle trail up to his chest, where those clever fingers immediately began to abuse his nipples. Connor let out a static moan and arched into the contact, shameless as always about chasing his own pleasure. He was still tugging on Hank’s shirt to pull him closer, not caring about the integrity of either of their clothes.

“Oh honey, you’re gonna have to be careful with that pretty little mouth of yours,” Hank purred, “Anyone could hear you if you keep making noises like that, and I don’t feel like sharing you.” Connor meant to say something in response, but Hank palmed at one of his pecs to emphasize just how big his hand was in contrast to Connor’s chest, and all that escaped was a low whimper. He was suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that they were still out in the backyard, and Hank was right both in terms of the roleplay and also their actual situation. He bit down on his lip and looked up at his husband with big brown eyes, trying to indicate just how good he was going to try and be from now on.

“What an obedient little prince,” Hank replied with a chuckle, removing his hands from Connor’s chest much to his disappointment. He went to ask why he was being punished for being good when one of those hands was suddenly pressed up against his crotch, massaging at his already rapidly hardening cock. The leggings offered no concealment, Hank able to feel just how desperate he was after a few kisses and some nipple play. A damp spot was beginning to form there, the cheap fabric easily allowing his synthetic precum to stain through. The feeling of Hank’s hand on him was incredible, Connor’s deprived sensors lighting up and shooting pleasure up through his body and down to the tips of his toes. 

“Please, please, Mr. Wolf,” Connor pleaded, getting lost in the roleplay in his desperation for anything that was more of this, “Please will you make me feel good?” He could swear he saw Hank’s eyes darken at that, the hand on his cock squeezing just enough to make him keen softly. 

“Oh, I’m going to make you feel so good, little prince. Don’t you worry about that,” he purred, grabbing Connor by the hips and spinning him around. Now Connor’s hands were pressed against the siding of the house, which he hoped dimly would be able to withstand the pounding he was about to get. He took advantage of this new position to stick his ass out and shake it a little. 

“What a slutty little piece of ass,” came the rumbling praise from behind, Hank swatting him playfully across the cheeks. Connor only remembered at the last minute that he was supposed to be quiet, choking down a moan as the contact. “Good boy, you just stay quiet,” Hank praised, yanking down the leggings and shoving the tunic up so that Connor’s lower back and ass were exposed. His cheeks were spread apart and Hank ran a thumb across his hole, seeming to admire what he was seeing for the first time. “Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. I’m going to enjoy wrecking you tonight,” he promised, and Connor felt that threat go straight to his dick, “You won’t be able to go back to your fancy castle after this. Not after the big bad wolf has his way with you.”

Had he not been almost delusional with the need for dick at this point, Connor would have had some things to say about Hank’s weird werewolf and big bad wolf story mixing. As it was, the over-logical part of his brain was completely lost in the haze of anticipation - he wanted, no he  _ needed _ Hank’s cock in him. It had been far too long, and they were so exposed out here in the open. They needed to hurry up. Connor ground backwards against Hank’s thumb, moaning out, “Just take me already, I need you! I’m ready, I can take it!” He knew that Hank knew that preparation was merely a nicety for an android like him, but whether he would indulge in the request was another matter. Sometimes his husband delighted in taking him apart with just his fingers, which was very unfair given what other nice things could go inside of him.

Tonight though, Hank wasn’t messing around. Connor heard the telltale sound of a zipper being undone, hands fumbling behind him before Hank’s cock was pressing up against him. The weight and warmth of it rubbing up against his ass was enough to have Connor whimpering soft pleas, knowing just how incredible it would feel to have that sliding inside of him. Lining himself up, Hank anchored Connor where he wanted him by the hips, so no matter how much he wiggled or pushed, the pace was entirely out of his control. And despite Hank eagerly sinking in all the way to the hilt, Connor was still squirming, loving the feeling of being filled up but desperate for more. 

“Fuck, darlin, you feel so good. Nice and tight,” came the praise from behind him, and Connor’s hands clenched on the wall. Warnings were popping up across his vision, alerts about extra lubrication production and internal component strain. At this point they were almost a welcome flush of information, a reminder of just how big his husband was, and how easily he could wreck him. Connor’s hips were twitching in Hank’s grip, a futile exercise but something he was unable to stop himself from doing. It seemed to work, because sooner than usual Hank began to move, pulling out almost completely before snapping his hips and thrusting back in in one fluid movement. 

_ Oh fuck yeah, that’s the good shit. _

Embarrassingly, that was the first thought through Connor’s overtaxed processors. He was almost glad they were outside and he was restraining himself, because otherwise that might have actually escaped out of his mouth. Instead, all that came out was a soft hiss of pleased static, the stretch and movement lighting up all his sensors in the best way possible. Hank wasn’t holding back tonight, setting a pace that had Connor rocking back and forth against the house with each rough thrust. The structural integrity of both his anal component and the house siding was really being put to the test. 

But Connor was absolutely loving it - Hank was grunting above him in a way that was almost animalistic, his fingers pressing so deep into Connor’s hips as to chase away the synthetic skin. The plastic of his chassis was groaning under the pressure, which only added to the pleasure burning through his systems. His cock was dripping precum onto the grass and his terrible bunched up leggings, and Connor couldn’t care less. He wanted desperately to reach down and touch himself, but he couldn’t imagine Hank would be terribly pleased with that. So he did it anyways, bracing his left arm against the house as his right slipped down to wrap around himself. 

“Oh no you don’t,” Hank growled, grabbing his arm and easily twisting it behind Connor’s back. “You wait your turn, little prince.” 

Connor cried out as the sudden shift in his posture angled Hank’s cock right up against his prostate. His back arched, synthetic muscles spasming and tightening without his control from the shock of pleasure. Everything was starting to heat up, his mouth open and panting out cooling breaths in an attempt to regulate his systems. His orgasm was already close, all those weeks with no release making him extra sensitive. 

And yet, Connor wanted to wait for Hank’s permission. Not just for the sake of the roleplay, where he was sure the big bad wolf would punish him for coming early, but also to be good for his husband. Connor loved being good for Hank, almost as much as he loved the man himself. It was  _ really _ hard to be good right now though, with his husband’s cock rubbing over his prostate every other thrust, and the feeling of being restrained heightening every sensation. Connor was biting his lip hard enough to break the skin, thirium bubbling up against his teeth, and yet a steady litany of static moans and whines were still escaping. His hand clenched down on the house siding, hearing just enough of a creaking noise that some part of him knew there was going to be permanent damage later.

Just as Connor was considering completely letting go and begging for Hank to let him come - Neighborhood Association and nosy neighbors be damned - the thrusts began to lose their rhythm, Hank’s grip tightening even more as he groaned. Suddenly, with a burst of data and a flood of warmth, he was coming inside of Connor. He doubled forward as he came, his belly pressing up against Connor’s back and blanketing him in more heat and sensation. That was too much for Connor to take, and he came as well, cock untouched but still making a mess all over his shoes and leggings. 

It was a miracle Connor’s legs didn’t collapse under him, as his systems very nearly shorted out, pleasure buzzing and sparking between every connector in his body. Overactive systems and analyses shut down in the face of thrumming waves of  _ Hank, Hank,  _ ** _Hank_ ** . It was the best feeling in the world, especially because Connor could feel his husband above him panting and shivering through his own orgasm, and knowing he was the source of that pleasure had him moaning yet again. By the time they both recovered some semblance of consciousness, Connor was ready to collapse, synthetic muscles be damned.

Hank straightened up with a groan, and Connor slumped up against the wall of the house, turning so he could pull his husband into a hug. After a few moments of silence in which Hank caught his breath and Connor recalibrated his vocal module, Hank murmured, “You were so good for me, darling. Thanks for playing along.” 

That was enough to have Connor weak in the knees again, a bright smile spreading across his face. “Oh thank  _ you _ for such a lovely surprise! How did you know I was missing your amazing cock so much?” he replied, half teasing, half sincere.

Hank chuckled, pressing a few lazy kisses to the side of Connor’s neck before he replied. They made him shiver in the best way possible, the feeling of warmth and comfort spreading out from the contact. “I mean, I  _ am _ your husband. I notice these things, Con,” Hank finally teased. When Connor let out a scandalized gasp, he laughed and added, “Really though, I wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass us by, what with Cole out of the house. And I guess I wanted to try and make it special? Festive?” 

Now it was Connor’s turn to laugh, reaching up to tousle at Hank’s werewolf ears. “I mean, it was very festive. I enjoyed it. Just like I enjoy every time with you.”

The faint flush on Hank’s cheeks was easy to spot, even in the dim lighting, but Connor kept that to himself. A little treat to think about later. “And you got rid of this terrible costume on top of everything else!” he added happily, “Now I can throw it away and tell Cole I fell and got it dirty or something. It won’t even be that much of a lie!” Hank snorted, pulling back just slightly to get a good look at the costume. The cheap fabric was wrinkled and rumpled from all their groping, and his leggings...well, they were stained probably irrevocably. Not to mention the little rips and tears from where Connor’s straining stance had tugged at the seams. 

“Don’t worry, by next Halloween Cole will pick out a different costume for you to wear,” Hank reassured Connor with a wink, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Connor whined at the thought, insisting, “No more costumes, please! This was so embarrassing.” 

Hank just shook his head, straightening up properly and sweeping Connor up into his arms with a soft grunt. “Not even sexy costumes? You know there’s a tail that goes with this costume…” He said, and Connor threw his arms happily around his husband’s neck, eager to enjoy the rest of their time together. 

“I never said anything about  _ you _ not wearing costumes!” 

Hank laughed, turning them towards the back door of the house, clearly not minding his husband’s logical fumblings.

Maybe, Connor thought, just maybe, Halloween wasn’t such a bad holiday after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought of the boy's terrible attempts at a sexy roleplay XD And what other sexy costumes they might play around with in the future~ Any and all comments and kudos are loved and appreciated <3
> 
> As always, Dabid Cabbage should live in fear of the day I finally catch up with him!
> 
> You can come find me on [tumblr](https://ohnomybreadsticks.tumblr.com/) if you'd like to chat or read more of my lil drabbles!


End file.
